Robin Hood S03
by PurplePinapple18
Summary: This is a retake on Season three, which might appeal to readers more.  Marian just barely survived her wound, and Will & Djaq were persuaded to stay in England.  The gangs many adventures.
1. Home Sweet Home

**This is an alternate version/story of the third series. Here are a few background notices.**

**-Marian was not killed, just severely injured**

**-Djaq and Will came back with them.**

**Enjoy!**

The earth feels steady and strong under Wills feet. As much as he would have loved to stay in his beloved's homeland, the sand could never replace the loyal dirt of England. And Saracens could never replace his friends.

Allan wasn't really sure what to think. Would the gang ever forgive him? Would it ever be like the good old days? Would he ever forgive himself? How could the gang ever forgive him, after his betrayal?

Djaq was quiet positive she had made the right choice. As she lightly sprinted over the leaves, the cooing of mourning doves met her ears; the soft rustling of animals comforted her. This may not have been her original home, but it was her home now.

The steady beat of John's feet pounding the dirt steadied his heart. He was home. He was near his Alice. Today was not a good day to die.

Much was unbelievably hungry. How could the others go this long without food? Underneath that though, he was about ready to hug a thick leafy tree. He was about to make his views heard, but stopped himself. The sun was too bright. The birds were too loud. Life was too good.

Revenge bent Robins mind like a vine. How dare that man hurt his wife? How dare he think he had killed her, and not even give a backwards glance? Gisbourne had better be ready.

Robin stopped on the hillside. He glanced at the others, but did not register their glazed eyes and tired faces. He did not hear the birds shrilling or the animals squeaking. He didn't notice the stag that could have fed the gang for a week grazing peacefully in the nearby meadow. All he noticed was his freshly fletched set of arrows, and the fact that Marian was still in the Holy land, being treated by their best phsycians. However much he insisted that he should stay, she beat him down, telling him that England needed him.. He regretted it, but they were to far away to do anything now. As Much spoke up, Robin was about ready to strangle him.

"Master, I'm hungry. We haven't eaten in hours master. I'm also very tired. We've been running for at _least_ an hour, and I'm-"

Robin clenched his fists.

"Feed off your own self pity. You have enough of that to feed the whole gang. And stop whining to me. When will you get it into your head that I _don't care_?" He slightly regretted these words after he spoken, but he shook off his pity. It was true! He didn't need his gang anymore. After all, it was only made up of complainers, traitors, lovebirds and brutes. He should just leave them all behind. He was going to get Gisbourne for brutally attacking his love. Gisbourne would pay. And Robin had an advantage over him. He didn't care how badly he got hurt killing that man.

"Robin!" Cried Djaq.

Will ran as fast as his legs would carry him after their leader. How could he be so foolish? Didn't he realize that they were his gang, and they wanted to help him? Will knew that Robin was upset; he understood what he himself would feel like if someone harmed Djaq, but that was no reason for him to abandon his friends for the sake of murder. Or at least he hoped that they were friends. He hoped that Robin hadn't just pretended that they were for the sake of the cause. He was certainly acting like it now… but Will forced that thought out of his head. Of course they were friends, and he knew that he needed to stop Robin before he did something foolish.

Will exchanged a look at Allan, who was running along beside him. They seemed to be thinking the exact same thing. Although Will wasn't sure he and Allan were best of friends now, he kind of understood his motives for betraying the group. But not really. Still, Allan was a quick thinker, and he slowed down to persuade John to go along with what Will was pretty sure was a plan. He turned around, and saw John nod at him. Will sped up his pace to meet Robin.

As he layed his hand on Robins arm, Robins head whipped around to stare at him.

"Robin." He said sharply. "You need to stop this nonsense." As John reached them, Will noticed his hand move slightly toward his quarterstaff. Robins eyes flickered in the same direction. As quick as a whip, an arrow was notched on his string. A mad glint was in Robins eyes.

"Let us not make this a habit of ours shall we?" He whispered. "I am going to kill Gisbourne, and there is nothing you can do to stop me. If any of you attempts to follow me, this arrow will be in their leg." Allan shied back from these words, thinking of the other times Robin had shot at him, when he had turned traitor to the gang. Robin was off again, not even looking back when Much called his name.

"Back to the camp!" Cried Allan. "We'll think of what to do when we get there." At a brisk trot, he sets off for the camp not far away. The others follow behind, moving silently through the wood as outlaws are supposed too.


	2. Here Again?

**Outlaws Camp**

"We must help my master, not chatter like schoolgirls this day." Much scolded Allan.

"I know, I know." Allan whispered, digging his palms into his forehead. "But if y' have any idea where he's gone, and how to save him, feel free and rush on over there and stop him." Allan was sure Much would come back with a perfectly 'stinging' remark, but as he opened his mouth, John spoke.

"He's after Gisbourne. He'll go to Nottingham. Gisbourne lives there now. _We_ go to Nottingham. We save Robin, and knock some sense into him. Then we feed the poor." Allan looked stunned. He hadn't been quite sure that John was able to express such a long phrase.

"I agree with John." Spoke out Will.

"It is settled then. We go to Nottingham." Djaq accepted

**Nottingham**

Robin crept quietly over the thatched roofs of the line of houses parallel with Nottingham Castle. A flash of an arrow took care of a guard, and Robin was sliding over the windowsill, into the long hallway overlooking the gallows in the square. Robin had never been in Gisbournes room before; he was usually holding the knife to the sheriff's throat. And Robin would never be holding the knife to Guys throat. He would be cutting it.

A swish of black fabric came from behind Robin, signaling the presence of a guard. Robin's sword was in his hand as he pivoted, and ran the guard through. Rules did not matter to him anymore. Blood mattered. Gisbournes.

Robin carefully opened the door to Gisbournes room. Most likely, Guy's heart took after the rest of him, Robin thought, noticing the articles of leather and black clothing strewn across the room. Of course, that was taking into consideration that he had one. Guys windows were barred, most likely to stop robbers and murderers coming in that way. _So he does notice who he kills _Robin considered. _He does notice how many people want to murder him. Too bad he doesn't have better guards._

He slipped over to his bedside, and drew out along, wickedly curved blade_. _He was so intent on his blade, and the open expansion of Guys throat, that he didn't notice the muscular guard stealthily

sliding towards him. And when he did, it was too late.

**Tavern Outside of Nottingham**

"Allan! We should not be stopping here! We need to save my master this instant. It is almost afternoon. My master has been in there since morning." Much cried, close to hysteria.

Allan sucked in a breath. "I know, and you should have listened when I had already explained it to you. We're stopping at the tavern to gather information, to see where the 'ell Robin is. There's no use storming Gisbournes quarters if Robins in the dungeon. If any place'll know, this'll be the one."

Resignedly, Much dropped into a seat. "I still don't see why-oh…" He stopped in midsentence, as a waitress sashayed up. She had short brown hair (_odd for the time, but it still suited her_ thought Allan and Much); a dark green dress that Allan personally liked on her, and was carrying drinks in one hand.

"Can I get you gents a drink?" She said with a giggle.

They obliged, and she set the drinks down.

"Y' can pay me later." She said, and slid off to the next table.

"Wait!" Cried Allan. "We need a spot of gossip from you." She turned around with a hint of annoyance on her face, which she quickly wiped off. Allan was sure he had imagined it.

"Yes?" She turned and glided back to the table.

"Are you familiar with the outlaw 'Robin Hood'?" asked Much.

"Yes." She said, with a grim look clouding her elfish face. "He's to hang the 'morrow at sunset. The sheriff means to make a show of it."

Much's eyes widened, but then took on a steely glint. "And may I presume he is being kept in the Nottingham dungeon?"

"Yep." Was her reply.

"That is all we need. Thank You." Said Much, a bit preoccupied. She walked away.

"I have an idea…" said Djaq, but before she could finish, Allan interrupted.

"Hang it, I do believe I have lost my money bag."

"Trust a thief to lose what he most wants." Said Much, but he broke off as he felt around his waist. "We've been robbed!" He pronounced. The other outlaws soon realized that they were in the same predicament.

"I cannot believe it. We, who give to the poor, taken from!" Exclaimed Djaq.

"But who did it?" said Will softly, peering around.

Before anyone could reply, an uproar came from a table of rich nobleman.

"Stop! Thief!" They cried, pointing at the girl who had served them drinks.

"I don't believe it." whispered Much "All the good ones are spies or thieves."

A guard appeared out of a dingy side room, adjusting his helmet. He drew a sword. The girl reached into her pocket, and pulled out a small dagger. Shedding her dress, she gave the impression of being dressed in men's clothing. With a whistle, she threw the dagger, and it buried itself in the chest of the guard. Allan's eyes widened, as he looked out the window, and saw around twenty-five guards marching up the road, led by a man clad in black leather. A small crowd rushed out to watch the events in excitement, and the gang was swept along with it.

"We have been looking for a long time for this one." Shouted Gisbourne. "She has robbed many and killed others. The girl drew one, no two, swords from her side and raised them. It was a sight to behold as the guards attacked her. She darted, here-there as quick as a shadow, taking care of many of the guards. She reached Gisbourne, and offensively attacked him. She seemed to have the upper hand, slitting his cheek and arm. But she didn't notice the guard who came up behind her and wholloped her on the head with the butt end of his sword.

She sprawled into the dust, trickling blood from slices and scrapes, unconscious.

"She hangs with Robin tomorrow." He cried, and the crowd cheered.

Gisbourne slung her over the back of his horse, and rode off into the afternoon sun. The gang looked at each other. John groaned. "We're saving her too, aren't we?"

Allan could only nod.


	3. Back in Buisness

**Nottingham Dungeon**

Robin gazed listlessly at the bars in the cell, as his mind cleared. Obviously, he had been very stupid. He had done away with his friends, and been incredibly mean to them. _They have no reason to come rescue me_ he thought. _ I told them to get out of my life basically. They probably don't even know where I am, or that I am going to hang. They will not save me._

Suddenly five guards came marching down the stairs. _Am I to hang?_ He wondered… but no, they were merely dropping off a prisoner. _And an unconscious one. A girl no less! _He was very stunned by this last bit of news. Why would they put a girl in the dungeon? What had she done, no more, what was she _capable_ of doing that would lend her a spot behind bars?

Robin scooted over to the edge of his cage clanking his chains loudly. The girls face was only just covered by her hair, which fell just below her stubborn chin.

"Hey." He spoke softly, trying to see if she was awake. Then he noticed the many wounds running a long her arms, and a couple old scars as well. _What had happened to her? _The question rang loudly in Robins head. He wondered if she would awaken before he was hung. She had all night, and the whole of tomorrow to do it.

He wondered why he had taken such an interest in her. He definitely did not love her; his heart would only ever belong to his Marian. More, he felt pity for her, or perhaps fascination in one that would take after Marian. Few girls were like that, the only ones he knew were his Mary and Djaq. He slumped against the side of the dungeon, then immediately sprang up again off of the wall. There were two reasons for this: One, the fact that the wall was covered in slime, and who-knows-what, and the other that he had seen the girl move.

He crawled over again, and she sat up, stretching. Then she sprang up, as if she had realized where she was, only to be yanked back down again by the chains enclosing her hands and wrists. Oblivious to Robin, she sat up, and reached under her tunic. To Robin's surprise, she pulled out a small dagger, and began picking at the lock. To his even more amazement, the lock sprang open, and she began working at her other hand and feet.

Robin cleared his throat. She whipped around, the dagger in hand, poised to strike.

"Whoa there. I'm not gonna hurt you!" he said, trying to act calm. She didn't seem to believe him. Then she groaned, and sank back down on the floor, rubbing a deep gash in her arm. Robin scooted closer.

"Who are you?" He asked. She squinted her eyes, obviously trying to sum him up in the dim light. Seeing no threat, she answered.

"Adela of Attenborough. And you?"

"Robin of Locksley, or Sherwood, now."

Her eyes widened at this. "Then we must get you out of here! You are England's last hope, while it is under the influence of Prince John. You are the hero of the wood!"

"Glad someone noticed." he muttered to himself.

Springing the last lock, she scooted closer to the bars.

"Lend me your lock." She said, and he scooted his foot as close to the bars as possible. Within a minute, that one had opened, and she moved on to the next one. After a while, Robin was rubbing his aching wrists and ankles.

"Well… thank you for that, but how are we supposed to get out of here?" He said, gesturing toward the bars. Adela paused for a moment, considering this part of the plan, then spoke.

"Unfortunately, the guards do not suspect a woman to have armed herself to the teeth." She said quite jovially, and reached into her boot, pulling out a long, thin metal object, which seemed to unfold as it came out. She stood up silently, and went to the edge of the cage. She stuck her hand out and bent the metal spire so that it would reach the lock on the door.

"Watch out!" hissed Robin through his teeth as a guard approached them.

"Here now." He grunted. "Whaddya think yer doing-" Without looking up, Adela reached into her sleeve, and pulled out a metal spike. She whisked it around, and without looking up, threw it into the guards windpipe. Without a sound, the man dropped to the floor. Robin was flabbergasted. How could she- why would she- but then he steeled himself. Obviously, this was no ordinary woman. After all, it was all part of the plan…

With a click, the door swung open. Before it could slam the wall, Adela darted out and caught it, placing it against the wall gently. She swiftly ran over to Robin's cage, and began picking at his lock. The door sprang open, and they were free.

She handed Robin a dagger from underneath her shirt.

"Just in case." She murmured, tugging on his sleeve.

They darted up the staircase, meeting next to no resistance. Any guards they did meet were immediately incapitated by small daggers. As they reached the top of the stairs, Robin couldn't help thinking how lucky they were.

"Follow me." She mouthed, and turned a corner. They ran into the servant's quarters, and amidst the hustle and bustle of people, there was no resistance. Yet. Adela pointed to a small wooden flap, which led into a palace of eggshells, fish spines, and rotten carcasses. Suddenly, the door to the kitchen banged open, and in strode Gisbourne. Robin was out the door in a flash, with Adela following close behind him.

Robin ran until he could run no more, and found himself just outside of Nottingham.

"Robin!" A voice cried, and turned around to see Much running to meet him. "We don't need to save you after all! We tried to get in, but guards kept appearing to stop us. John has a hurt foot. How did you get out? What about-"

"Hush friend." Soothed Robin. Then he turned around. "Where's Adela?" He asked suddenly.

"Who?" Much asked a questioning glint in his eye.

"A girl. She helped me escape. Picked the locks on the doors."

"What does she look like?" Asked Much.

"Short brown hair, green eyes, lithe, medium height-"

Much looked flabbergasted. "We saw her get arrested by Gisbourne. She was robbing people at the inn. She's supposed to hang with you tomorrow."

"We got to get her out of there. After all, she did help me escape."

Much seemed excited by this. "How are we going to get in?" he asked.

"I don't know. Let's meet the rest of the gang. Where are they?"

"Follow me." Said Much, leading Robin down a dusty road. They were officially back in business.


	4. Of The Hood

**Outside of Nottingham Square**

Robin ran to meet Will, Djaq, and Allan who were sitting outside of the castle walls. Although looking a bit windswept, they were no worse for the wear. But John, on the other hand, was lying propped up against the wall, with a nastily swollen leg. It pained Robin just to look at it, so he couldn't imagine what world of pain John must have been in.

"Robin!" Cried Allan.

"Are you all right?" Added Djaq in a pitying voice.

"We thought you were dead." Said Will in an undertone, somewhat reproachful.

"I'm all right, I'm all right." Robin reassured, spreading his arms wide for all to see. "Just a bit of a bruised head and pride mind you. Nut someone else isn't. A girl—she helped me escape, but was caught by Gisbourne in the process. She's to hang tonight."

"The one," Interrupted Much, "That robbed us in the tavern. Allan looked up quickly.

"Her?" He asked.

"Yes her." Said Much with a territorial look on his face.

"We gonna save 'er?" Asked Allan.

"Yeah." Replied Robin. "I have a plan…"

**Nottingham Castle**

Adela furiously spat the gag out of her mouth. Then, with a swish, she worked up a glob of spit and blood in her mouth, and spat it on the black haired mans foot. He smacked her across the face, and she blinked a couple of times, trying to register the left side of her face. A short bald man swept into the room. Adela instantly disliked this man, seeing the way he held himself aloof and invincible from the others.

She treated him the same way she had the raven haired man, and was whacked across the other side of her face. She bit her tongue to keep herself from crying out. She must not show her pain to this man. He kneeled down next to her and stared into her eyes.

He snapped his fingers. "Untie her." Clearly used to strange orders from this strange man, the guards roughly cut the ropes tying her ankles and wrists. In a flash, she was on her feet. A moment later, Gisbournes sword was digging into her throat.

"Hold on, hold on." Said the baldy. "We've only just begun. Sit down."

She remained standing.

The Sheriff exchanged a look with the leather man (for that is what she would call him), and he kicked her, hard, in the shins. She sank to the ground with an inaudible whimper of pain.

"I have seen what you are able to do." He began. "Rob without a glance, kill without fluttering an eyelash. I want you to kill Robin Hood.

She narrowed her eyes. "When hell freezes over."

"Oh, believe me, it will, and very soon. If you do not do this, then I will kill you, and you'll see if your prediction is accurate."

As if proving the man's point, Leather Man slashed her across the cheek with the tip of his sword. Adela brought her hand to her cheek, then removed it, and bared her throat.

"Do it." She snapped. The man seemed taken aback.

"All in good time, my dear. But, another catch." He yanked her roughly by the hair over to a map of Nottingham and the surrounding towns. "See this charming village of Attenborough? If you do not complete my request, it will stay all happiness and daisies. A clue? No."

Adela gasped. Surely, the man would not have the resources to destroy an entire town?

As if reading her mind, the Sheriff answered by holding out his ring.

Adela let out an audible gasp this time. It was the insignia of the black knights. Prince John's elite guard and voice. They controlled a whole army. Surely, in less than an hour, they would be able to destroy all of her hometown, Attenborough. Memories of it came swarming into her mind. Swimming in the small pond with other children. All the happiness in that place would cease if not for the death of one man. She had killed plenty; surely this one would be no different?

"I'll do it." She choked out.

"I knew we would convince you my dear. And I even have an idea of how you could kill him, along with the rest of his band…"

**Nottingham Square**

"Um…are you quite sure about this?" Adela asked the Sheriff, looking pointedly at the gallows.

"No. If he does save you, lucky you. If he doesn't, too bad. But remember Attenborough dear."

Adela steeled herself. "Yes. " She did not resist as the rough kempt was tied around her wrists. The beating of the drum seemed to slow down, and her heart seemed to speed up.

Beat… Adela felt herself being led into the square by rough hands. Beat… Robin nocked an arrow to his bow as the girl was led across to the gallows. Beat… Adela knew she should resist, wanted to resist as she was led up the roughly cut wooden stairs. But then she remembered Attenborough. Beat… Robin raised his bow, ready. Beat… Adela focused her eyes on a blossoming cherry, hoping it wouldn't be the last thing she ever saw. Beat… robin followed Adela's eyes across the square, and his heart filled with pity for what this girl must be feeling. Beat… Adela felt the rough hood being forced over her head. Beat… Robin was ready. Beat… Adela climbed the steps, and the noose was placed around her neck. Beat… Robin tensed. Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat. The stool swung out from Adela's feet instant pressure. Her neck was snapping she was swinging back and forth; her eyes were popping out- relief.

She dropped to the wood, and rolled onto the cobblestones. She could see nothing, but a rough calloused hand grabbed her own, and ripped the hood off of her head. She was running across the square, out of the gates, across the road and into Sherwood Forest. The screams behind her were oddly muffled. She remembered Attenborough


	5. Jiggity Jog

Adela stumbled into the camp, and leaned against the wall, out of breath. The man who had led her there looked slightly familiar; his unruly hair and blue-green eyes. She shook her head. How would she possibly know anyone from Nottingham when she had grown up in Attenborough and Roshdale?

She looked around the camp, and discovered a leaf-strewn, but otherwise tidy, hidden room. A _girl _was sitting near the fire tending to it. She had short black hair, but seemed intent on her work.

It was pretty amazing at how the outlaws had managed to hide the camp like that. She was itching to understand how that had possibly been built, but she deferred herself. She must remember Attenborough.

A large man was propped up on a bunk, snoring. His huge hairy leg was swollen, and he looked pretty beaten up. Adela craned her neck to stare into the recesses of the room. Bundles of herbs met her eyes in one corner, bunks were stacked high in another, and the camp was framed around a large black cooking pot. Before Adela could see more, three outlaws burst into the camp, all gasping and wheezing. One dropped onto the floor by the cooking pot, and began muttering incoherently under his breath.

About a minute passed before the outlaws had regained their breath, and stood up, looking rather awkward. Robin Hood stepped forward, and cleared his throat.

"Um…gang. This is… well… maybe we should introduce ourselves first. Robin of the Wood, or Hood- at your service. " He made a clumsy little bow. "And this is Little John." He added, pointing to the big man.

"Will Scarlet of Locksley." Mumbled a tall, pale teenager, who looked serious.

"Djaq, from the Holy Lands." Said the girl. I looked at her quizzically. How had she gotten into Robins gang when he had left his hometown to fight against Saracens for five years?

Robin met my gaze. "We'll explain later. It's rather a long story."

The man who had dropped down by the fire spoke, without getting up. "Much." His face turned red. He obviously realized this didn't sound very professional. "Of…. Bonchurch. Yes, that's it!" The man who had escorted me to camp sniggered, the spoke.

"Allan a' Dale or…um… Roshdale."  
>"Allan?" I spoke, disbelieving.<p>

"Um…"

Adela crossed the room and slapped him across the face.

"That is for leaving."

Then she embraced him.

"And that is for the slap."

"Adela?" Allan asked apprehensively.

A minute passed before anyone spoke up.

"Care to enlighten us?" Asked Robin


	6. A Dale Part 1

Adela cleared her throat, and began. As she started speaking, her mind drifted back to the sunny town of Attenborough, where she had grown up. She could not distinguish between what she was telling the outlaws, and what was going on in her own mind.

_Adela was ten, and practicing her sword movements. Her fathers warm presence loomed over her._

"_And lunge." He rumbled. "Left foot forward, right back, plunge, retreat." Adela soon had a complicated rhthym going. _Lunge, strike, forward, dive, parry, slice, retreat, repeat. _Adding new parts onto this phrase, she didn't notice as her father left her, probably going off on some fatherly business. Suddenly a voice broke into her routine._

"_Wow! You're good- for a girl."_

_Adela stopped, and saw two boys hidden in the bracken. The older one, who seemed to have been the one that had spoken, stepped out. Adela looked him up and down, judging him. She knew who this was- it was the tavern keepers son. Her father had told her he was _always_ getting into trouble._

"_I'd like to see you do better." She said, beating off this last remark._

"_O.K" He shrugged, and picked up the wooden sword. He did a shaky circle, spinning the sword. As he lunged, he fell flat on his face. Adela giggled. The boys brother crept off, obviously embaressed by his older brother._

_The boy stood up, and brushed the dirt off his red face._

"_Here." Said Adela, patiently. "I'll show you."_

_The boy eyed her, wondering if he should oblige to a girl. But the movements had looked really cool. He nodded his head._

"_My name is Allan."_

"_Mine's Adela."_

_Adela picked up a spare wooden sword, and gave it to the boy, Allan. _

"_First, you stick out your right leg…"_

_Neither of them noticed the time going by, until Adela looked up at the sky._

"_It's nearly evening." She said. "I should probably go back to my house. Allan looked ready to protest, but a glint came into his eyes._

"_Can we keep doing these lessons?" He asked. He really wanted to be good with a sword, and beat that girl._

"_Sure." She said. "When's a good time for you? I don't think my father approves of you very much so-"_

"_Midnight." He interrupted. "You know the old oak, in the clearing."_

_Adela was starting to get excited. She had never disobeyed her fathers orders. This would be fun!_

"_Yes." She replied._

_Allan winked at her, and then ran off._

_Adela was waiting in her room, and she was getting rather bored. She stood up, and arranged the items she would bring to her meeting- yet again. She crossed the room and looked out of the window. The moon was high in the sky; good! She put on her teachers point of view. They would be able to see very well in the dark._

_A clock downstairs chimed eleven. One whole hour to go. But it wouldn't hurt if she went early. Maybe she could practice a little beforehand. She put the wooden swords into her backpack, tied her brown hair into a bun, and then climbed out the window. The stables made a perfect place for her to rest before she swung down, hitting the ground delicately like a cat. Then she was sprinting through the dewy grass, hoping that no one would notice her leaving, hoping that her father wouldn't peek his head out of the window. She burst into the forest and stopped. Her old haunts met her eyes, but they seemed odd in the half light. She leapt across the creek whose slimy stones winked at her in the moonlight. The slope upon which she scrambled had been her favorite place to hide and explore, but she couldn't explore now. She had a mission._

_The small hill she had dubbed The Elven Mountain loomed over her head. She climbed to the top of it, and stared around the forest. She could just see the huge trunk of the great oak. Adela ran towards it. _

_The clearing was a beautiful place, with soft green grass under the shade of the enormous oak. If only she could be enjoying it in the day time, but no, her father would never approve of her meeting the "taverners brat" as he called Allan. She did love her father, but he could be misleading in some approaches. Suddenly Adela had the most wonderful idea. What if she _climbed_ the old oak? Imagine how stunning she would look if she came dropping out of its oddly low branches. _

_It was settled. She ran towards the oak, and searched the trunk for a hold. A small water filled pocket met her eyes, and she hoisted herself up. _

_The oak leaves sighed majestically as she pulled herself up. She had really never appreciated the beauty of Attenborough before tonight. The small but well made houses were all shut up tight, and very cozy looking. The forest spread before her like a black blanket beneath which giants slept. Suddenly, she heard a rustling in the branches not to far above her. She jerked her head up, but sighed in relief as she saw Allan._

"_Come up." He whispered, and she climbed a few branches higher. The crook in which he sat in was big enough for two, so she settled herself in as well._

"_I want to show you something." Said Allan, and he climbed, catlike, along the thick branch. Adela followed him catiousley. A huge hole in the tree met Adelas eyes, and to her surprise, Allan slid in. She didn't want to seem chicken, so she followed him. A short crawl led her surprisingly, through the tree branch. She couldn't see Allan, but she could hear his voice. _

"_Lower yourself down, slowly. You'll feel some footholds in the trunk. She did what she was told, and soon found herself in a small dust cavity. A blossom of light appereared, and she could see Allan holding a lantern, grinning. _

"_I figgered we could store our practicing stuff in 'ere. I also wanted t' know who I'm takin' sword lessons from. We could probably get to know each other in here."_

"_Okay." I responded, not sure what else to say. "I'm Adela, I'm ten, and I like to fight. My nurse doesn't approve of it, but my father keeps teaching me."_

_They talked long into the night. Allan noticed Adelas eyelids drooping closer and closer to shut, but he kept persisting her. Finally, she fell asleep, but he didn't mind when she drooped over onto his shoulder. After all, she was only ten, when he was a grownup twelve year older. Finally, he drifted off to. The lantern flickered and went out._


	7. ADaleA

_Adela woke the next morning and started at where she was. A patch of sunlight dappled the dust in the bottom of the tree. She was going to be in so much trouble! Allan was snoozing in a corner. She prodded him awake._

"_Huh? Whas that?" He mumbled, and turned over. Seeing that she couldn't do anything about it, (or maybe she didn't want to wake him), she scrambled out of the tree. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. The sun had barley risen- she still had time to get back to her house without waking anyone._

_Adela sped through the grass, not minding the dew that coated her legs. The trees flashed by, but they didn't flash by just fast enough. When she reached her house, she knew she would be in serious trouble. _

_The Attenborough estate sprawled over a long distance, so she was able to climb the post without having anyone see her. She shimmied up the post, and into her bedroom. With a sigh of relief, she collapsed on the bed. Maybe she wouldn't be in trouble. Maybe she would slip by this one. Her relief was shattered when a nasally voice met her ears._

"_Adela of Attenborough. Where have you been?"_

_Adela shrunk farther under the bed clothes. It was Nurse. Of all the people she would have chosen to find her…Nurse? What a cruel world this was!_

_Nurse's large bulk rumbled over to the bedside. Her enormous belly drooped over her flabby legs. Adela bet that if she poked it, it would rumble like the jelly preserves Nurse was so fond of. But this was no laughing matter. Nurse might even get her way with Father; Adela might never be able to practice swordsmanship again!_

"_Adela! You stand up and act like a proper woman this instant."_

_Adela stood to her feet shakily, and pressed her ankles against the bottom of her roughly carved bed. Nurse was steaming—her nostrils were flaring, her face was red, and her eyes were wide._

"_What is that on the bottom of your breeches?" She stormed. Then realizing it, she began to rant._

"_Mud! Mud! You are not a woman! You are a pig. Your noble father deserves nothing of you. He won't even be able to marry you off when you are older. You will end up with nothing, nothing you hear me? You will become a lowly tavern girl…a prostit-" _

_Her tirade was cut off suddenly as father stormed into the room. _Great._ Thought Adela. Not only will I catch it from Nurse, but father as well. She tensed her muscles, preparing for the yell… but it never came. Instead her father crushingly bear-hugged her. _

"_You are my little girl, through and through. You go out before daybreak to practice? Maybe you're taking this a little too seriously Addie, but I'm proud of you." He pats me on the back, and hands me a coin. "Go spend this on something you would like. Something girlish—you must be craving something other than weapons. Spend it on something _pretty._" He seems to be convincing himself rather than me._

_In the marketplace, the vendors are screaming their wares.  
>"Jewelry for the fine Missus?" A man walks up to me with necklaces draped over his arm. I push away.<em>

"_Meat—just off the table. Fresh!"_

"_Cabbages and potatoes. Just plucked from the earth. Come 'n buy 'em."_

_The voices hammer in my ears, but I concentrate on my fighting breaths. Soon I am calmed down. I slap a hand away from my pocket, and continue down the lane. Soon I spy the vendor I am looking for. Lightly curved, polished, high quality bows are strung around the walls. I walk over and begin to eye the styles. Some are very long, with just a slight curve. Some curve in and out. But the bow that caches my eye is made out of a light reddish wood. It is highly polished, not too long, not too straight, but curves away from the shooter._

"_Can I help you with something my dear?" The man asks. "Should you be away from your home without an escort?"_

_I nod. "I would like that one." I say, pointing to the beautifully carved bow._

_The man looks quizzical. "Perhaps I can interest you in something else. Would you care for a necklace?" He says, pulling up a rack of garishly huge pendants._

"_No thank you." I state firmly. "I would like a bow." I pull out a handful of money. My father's coin has just added up to the amount of the bow. When the vendor sees the money his eyes widen._

"_Of course, of course." He says oily. "Here is a sheath to go along with it. Your money should well cover the expenses." He hands me the beautiful bow, and I run my hands over its smooth polished wood. He clears his throat. _

_I snap out of the daze and place the money on the table. I quickly hurry away._

_That night, I bring my bow and quiver to show Allan. He admires it, and I state my problem._

"_I don't know how to shoot it."_

_His eyes widen. "Oh, I can teach you. You teach me sword fighting, and I'll teach you archery."_

_It is settled. We shake on it._

"_Every night at midnight?" he inquires._

_I nod. That night, we shoot, we fight, and we have fun._

I suddenly realize where I am. The outlaw's camp comes rushing back to me. But I continue my story.

"_We met each other may nights after that. Soon Allan and I became fast friends. We would tell each other anything; all of our secrets. Then, one night, Allan told me. I was, fifteen, he was seventeen. He was leaving. He needed to make his own way in the world. I begged him not to go, but he did. I never saw him again until today."_

The gang was looking at me with an odd expression on their faces.

"You're a good story teller." Said Much.

"Yeah." Agreed Will.

I blushed. "Um… Thanks… I guess."

"But what happened after that?" Asked Allan. "How did you get to be a… umm….." He blushes.

"Thief?"

"Yeah. I only know as far as you told. Please keep going."

I nod in assent.


	8. The End, but of whom?

I began to tell my story.

"After Allan left, I was distraught. My father seemed to notice it. He began coddling me like an infant. But, he had grown farther and farther away from me each time I lied to him. The wonderful father I once had was now a tired old man, unable to pick up a sword. Maybe he thought because he couldn't do it anymore, or maybe because I was becoming a woman; he stopped teaching me. He threw away my daggers and swords. He bought me jewelry and fancy clothes. I handed them out to the poor and went around in breeches. He could not accept who I was.

I began to practice in secret. I would go to mine and Allan's oak and practice. I would drop from the branches to improve my stamina. I would climb the oak with just my arms to improve my strength. I became- I won't deny it- almost entirely lethal.

But then the day came. My father was cleaning my room, and he found my daggers. Soon he found my bow and swords. I was disowned from the family. My father had forgotten who I was, and it had hit him as a shock. Or maybe it was my Nurse. She had become a large influence over my father. She never cared for me, and grew to hate me as the years went by. She also grew to, possibly, but not probably, love Father. Or maybe she just wanted his power. Most likely the latter.

I was alone in the world. I had no life but my weapons, and no food but my pride. I began to starve. Then I remembered Allan. What had he done at the tavern? If he could thieve, so could I. I began to practice. I soon became quite good at it. I could rob nobles without a blink, but the one thing I could never do was steal from the poor. I remembered that I had been in that very same predicament not too long ago.

Three or so years passed, and I found myself wandering aimlessly around the county. I soon became a hired robber or dirty-work-doer. I never made a mistake until a few months ago, when I was thieving for the Duke of Matlock, in the Duke of York's armory. Luckily, the Duke of York is much kinder than your 'Sheriff of Nottingham'. I was let off with no more than a bruised back, and a headful of shorn hair. My reputation grew in Nottingham as a thief, but I was inconspicuous and few knew what I actually looked like. Until Gisbourne caught me. As I was to hang, now many people know what I look like. It is likely that my career will be postponed until my hair grows back."

"I like it that way." Interrupted Much. Will shushed him, but Adela smiled kindly at him.

"Why thank you Much! And do not worry Will, I had just finished."

Adela settled back against the wall. Her voice had grown hoarse from all the speaking and she could feel how dry and cracked it was. Suddenly, Adela glanced up at the sky. It was nearly dark. She could see the outlaws begin to stretch and yawn. It had, after all, been a _very_ long day.

Suddenly Allan spoke up. "I didn't know."

"Didn't know what?"

"What you had been through. What you were thinking. What happened after I left. I always wanted to know, but…"

Adela felt a small monster roar up in her belly. _He _was the one that had left. It wasn't _her_ fault he didn't know what had happened. He didn't need to leave. But she was almost over that. She needed to get over it. After all, she was seeing him again after many years.

Her train of thought was suddenly broken as Robin held out his hand to her.

"I think that story proves that although, yes, you were once a thief, you should join our gang. You will be a strong asset in helping the poor, and hindering the Sheriff of Nottingham. After all, he did try to hang you."

Painful thoughts rushed into Adela's mind. She was going to have to _kill _this man. He had just offered her a spot in his gang. An image came into her mind, of her and the gang, feeding the poor, defeating the Sheriff, and becoming glorious heroes. It would be so easy. She just had to grasp his hand.

But images of Attenborough came rushing into her mind. It was a large town, with at least a hundred people. She could save all those people. It was the much harder choice, but many more benefited from it.

But what if she told Robin of the Sheriffs plan? That would make the choice so much easier… but it would never work. The Sheriff would realize she had told, and would destroy Attenborough. She was sure Robin would give his life to save Attenborough… almost sure. A roaring filled her ears as her mind whirred. She knew what she had to do. It was the right choice.

Adela shook Robins hand numbly, feeling the pulse in his wrist. In just a few hours, that pulse would cease to be.


End file.
